


now, right now, we are alive

by beautifullights



Series: everyone has scars [9]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Awesome!Finn, Bathing/Washing, Caretaking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Enthusiastic Consent, Erotic Bathing, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Nipple Play, Soul-Restoring Fluff, guided masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 16:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8021125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifullights/pseuds/beautifullights
Summary: Finn stretches his legs out on either side of Poe, cradles Poe to his chest, and leans them both back against the tub. “Better?” he murmurs, nuzzling into the tangled hair at the base of Poe’s neck. The scent of Zaela trees is rich on Poe’s skin, sharp and spicy. Poe relaxes back into Finn’s arms. “Much,” he sighs. “Mmm. So much better.”“Good.” Pressed up to Poe like this, Finn can feel the frissons still running through Poe’s body. He wraps an arm around Poe’s ribs, securing his lover to his chest as though he can absorb the faint tremors into his own bones. Poe is buoyant in his arms, skin warm against his, breath echoing against the fresher tiles, heart beating beneath his hand. Here, in the quiet fresher, with his beloved, Finn feels safe. ///Alternative title: The soul-restoring fluffy angsty erotic bathing smut that everyone said they needed.





	now, right now, we are alive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TuppingLiberty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuppingLiberty/gifts).



> Many many many thanks to my wonderful beta, Zoe_Dameron! All credit/blame for this goes to my lovely tumblr enablers: animalasaysrauer, leftwinglibrarian, redlipstickandhairbows, spooky-doings, and orchis. When I asked if the world really needed more than 6k of erotic bathing, they said yes, yes we do. So I did. 
> 
> This fic picks up immediately after the end of [i held your heartbeat in my hands](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5772274/chapters/13302607). I highly recommend reading or rereading that one first, as this fic relies on it pretty heavily. This fic also takes place approximately four weeks before the beginning of [You Promise Me, My Life.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6051894/chapters/13874562)
> 
> *** TW: temporary paralysis, discussions of the possibility of dying in war, references to past near-death experience due to poison.

Poe’s quiet groan jolts Finn from a dozing fugue. He’s stumbling out of bed before he knows where he is, braced for action, squinting around the dimly lit—medbay room? “Oh.” Finn rubs a hand over his head, turns back to the bed, and reaches for Poe. “Hey. How’re you doing?”

Poe’s fingers twitch. It takes him two tries to take Finn’s hand. “‘M here,” he replies, breathless.

“Hurts?” Given the tight lines around Poe’s eyes, this is mostly a rhetorical question.

“Nah, I’m—”

Finn raises a brow. 

Poe winces. “Do you know how much you look like the general when you do that? I—ugh, ok, fine, don’t look at me like that. It just—burns, I guess.”

“What burns?”

“Everything?” Poe’s shoulders twitch up, down. “It’s fine, buddy, don’t worry.”

Finn looks down at him.

“Yeah, ok, maybe—ok.” Poe closes his eyes for a moment. “Look.” His fingers tighten around Finn’s. “I just—” He stops.

“Poe.” Finn sits on the bed. Runs a hand over Poe’s shoulder. Looks down at his lover, sweep of dark curls and twist of red lips and angle of stubbled jaw.

“I smell, ok? That’s what hurts the most. That and the fact that I can’t even shave off this banthafucking stubble.”

Finn squints. “Proto-beard, I’d call it. And you smell good.”

Poe makes a face.

“And before you go denying it,” Finn yawns, “I’d like to hear you say I smell bad.”

“I like the way you smell,” Poe mutters.

“Good.” Finn tugs on one of Poe's curls just to watch it pop back into place. Poe suppresses a smile. “Then we’re even,” Finn continues. “I move we table shaving until you’re not as twitchy. I’d rather not slit your throat. I feel like that would be a bit of a downer.”

Poe pales. ”Oh. Right. Fuck. Good call.”

“But if you want to shower—”

“Can’t fucking stand up,” Poe grumbles. “How the hell would I take a shower? Fuck, you should go away, I’m just going to be grumpy and I survived, fuck it, I have nothing to grumble about, I’m just being an asshole—”

Sometimes the only way to shut Poe up is to kiss him, so Finn does. Poe leans up into Finn’s touch with a sigh. Poe’s lips are warm and dry and sweet and—hearing Poe start to fight for breath, Finn breaks off the kiss far earlier than he’d like to. He leans against his lover’s forehead, waiting for the metallic ping of the heart monitor to settle down.

“Fuck, it’s ok,” Poe pants, “breathing is overrated, come back here—”

Finn laughs past the burn in his throat. “Breathing,” he says, and stops.

Poe’s fingers tighten in his. “I’m sorry,” he says, very soft.

“For what? You have nothing to be sorry for, don’t—”

“I’m sorry anyway! I—” Poe stops, lowers his voice back down to normal. “That you were scared. I’m sorry. Ok?”

Finn looks down at him. Nods. “You want to take a shower,” he says.

“It’s ok, I—”

“Since you can’t stand yet, I think that’ll be a bit too complicated, but I can give you a bath instead. If you want.”

Poe stares up at Finn, eyes wide. “I want,” he says. “If—I mean—do you—”

“I want to.” Finn starts to smile again, for real this time. “I really want to.”

Poe nods, nods again. “Ok,” he says. “Ok. Good. Well. Then.” He hesitates. “Can I return the favor? When I can fucking move again.”

Finn’s smile quirks up into a crooked grin. “That sounds _lovely._ " He crosses quickly to the fresher—the sound of running water soon emerges into the tiny medbay room. Finn returns, looks down at Poe, and cocks his hands on his hips. “Ok. So. This is going to work. I’m just going to—yup. Yeah. Ok.”

Finn starts by untying the sash of the medbay robe where it crosses Poe’s waist. With quick, sure motions, he slips each of Poe’s arms out of the sleeves. And… _fuck,_ his lover is beautiful as always, angles and curves and sunlit skin and dark thickets of hair. The thought skips, as such thoughts always do, to thoughts that should not be shared with meddroids, so—Finn reaches behind Poe’s head for the _Sleeping - Do Not Disturb Unless Medically Necessary_ button and presses it twice, just to make sure.

Poe cocks a brow up at him. “Really,” he says.

“I don’t mean—” Finn’s face heats. “I just didn’t want anyone else walking into the fresher on us. Would you rather a meddroid bathe you?”

Poe winces. “No, oh hell no, good call.”

“Well, good,” Finn laughs. “Glad we’re on the same channel. All right if I carry you into the fresher?”

Poe shrugs, helpless. “I’d love that, buddy.”

“Then let’s go.” Finn presses a kiss to Poe’s forehead, slides an arm beneath Poe’s knees and shoulders, and lifts him. Poe’s breath hitches at the motion. He shifts as though to wrap his arms around Finn’s neck, realizes he still can’t, and nestles into Finn’s chest instead. Finn’s lips quirk in a small smile. “Comfortable, love?”

“Very,” Poe says faintly.

“Good.” Finn bears Poe across the room, shifts sideways to ease them both into the fresher, and then—Poe shuts his eyes—carefully lifts one foot and dips it into the tub to check the temperature.

Balancing on one foot. With Poe in his arms.

“How,” Poe asks, breathless. “Do you do that.”

Finn sets the foot back onto the ground. “Sheer grit and determination.” He manages to stay straight-faced for approximately one and a half seconds before cracking up.

“Nerfherder.” Poe shakes his head.

Finn beams at him. “Always.” He kneels by the tub and eases Poe down into the warm water.

Poe closes his eyes in bliss. “You,” he says. “Remind me again what I did to deserve you? Because not enough, is the answer. Never enough.”

“Pssh.” Finn splashes Poe. He squints at the line of medbay soaps and liniments. “Trillium soap, do you think?”

Poe shakes his head. “I see how it is. If you dare—”

Finn shrugs. “Hairy as a Wookiee, aren’t you? Might as well smell like one. It’s a nice smell, really.”

“The things I put up with around here.”

Finn cracks one jar open, sniffs at it, makes a face, and puts it aside. “No. Hell no. Where’s the—oh. There.” There’s a small vial of Yavinese shampoo on the rack, highly concentrated and as spicy as a freshly crushed blueleaf. Finn shakes a few drops into his palm, and—oh, right. Get the hair wet first. With his other hand, he carefully pushes Poe’s head deeper into the tub until his hair drifts out into the water, keeping his lover’s face above the surface. When Poe’s hair is wet enough, Finn lifts his head back up, rubs his hands together, and starts massaging the shampoo into Poe’s scalp.

He can’t stop the ridiculous grin that rises up _every. single. time._ he gets his hands in Poe’s hair. It’s an instinctive reaction. Biological, maybe. Barring a sharp blow to his head, he’ll probably always respond this way. So will his cock, fuck it, and there’s not much he can do about that, either. But it can wait until Poe is better. _Calm the fuck down,_ he orders his dick _._

It doesn’t help, of course, that Poe has an equally instinctive reaction to anyone combing through his hair: close his eyes, tip his head back, and go entirely limp, as though all of the tendons and ligaments in his body spontaneously decided to loosen their grip on his joints. He hums beneath his breath, some soft lilting melody that ripples across the water and echoes against the fresher tiles.

The shampoo lathers into a rich cream between Finn’s fingers, palest green like a new leaf in the sun, laced with Poe’s dark curls. Finn twines his fingers through the decadent mess. He would be utterly content—exalted, really—to just stay here all day. At a glance, it looks like Poe feels the same. But they should—they should—there was a reason to move on from this, wasn’t there? The water will get cold? One or both of them will need to sleep? The sun will set? The galaxy will tilt off its axis without them to hold it up, that is certain.

Someday. Someday they will stay like this for hours. Poe will be able to move properly, and the tub will be big enough for two, and the water will be warm enough to heat all of their worries straight out through their pores, and they’ll…

Finn shakes himself awake. He grabs the short spray and rinses the shampoo out of Poe’s hair, cupping the suds back from his lover’s forehead to protect his eyes. The natural bark-black of Poe’s hair gradually reemerges from beneath faint green clouds. Rivulets of water and foam run down Poe’s temples, not reminding Finn of the dried blood on Poe’s temple the first time they met. Not in the slightest. He clears his throat, resumes his ministrations, and forcibly turns his mind to happier things.

Things like the rush and ebb of the water around Poe’s body, tinted green now by the shampoo. Like the steamy air of the fresher, pebbling Finn’s skin. Like Poe’s hair, dark and clean and so much longer when straightened by the water. Here, in the quiet fresher, in the early dawn, with his beloved, Finn feels safe.

He sets aside the short spray, slides a bar of Nabooian soap from the rack, dips it in the water, and lathers it between his hands. He runs his hands over his lover’s chest first and takes a moment to just watch the suds run down over Poe’s smooth pecs. Poe’s skin is warm beneath his hands, familiar and welcoming. The gentle rise and fall of Poe’s chest goes a long way to dissolve the horror of Poe’s body spasming in his arms, wracked with pain, near death.

Poe’s hands are still shaking, and he can’t figure out how to get them to stop, so he just lets Finn lift first one arm, then the other, and rub them down with soap. The warmth of the water starts to ease the fraying ache in his body. There’s a sharp fragrance in the air, fresh and clean as a grove of Zaela trees. Finn’s fingers curl into the soft dark hair at Poe’s armpits, then swirl a handful of suds over Poe’s shoulder. Soap cascades over the curves of Poe’s biceps, gathers in the crook of his elbow.

“Buddy.” Poe fixes his eyes on the slosh of water around his torso. “I never. Thanked you properly, yesterday.”

Finn’s hands still. “What?”

“For. Saving my life. If you hadn’t gotten us out of there so fast. Hadn’t—”

“If you think there was any chance I would have left you there—”

“No, I know that, I just—ok, I couldn’t really tell what was going on, but I’m pretty sure you carried me back to the ship? While shooting at those goons? Risking your own life, if they’d hit you—” Poe clears his throat. “And then flew us both home, and kept a cool enough head to—” Poe makes an aborted gesture towards his chest. “Jolt me. Kalonia said. I—I just—”

Finn dips one hand in the water to rinse it, reaches up, and cups Poe’s chin. “You’re welcome,” he says, eyes steady on Poe’s. His fingers rub over Poe’s stubble, drip onto his neck. “My love. I—” Finn’s hand tightens on Poe’s chin. He looks down into the water, watches the suds swirl white against Poe’s golden skin. Presses a soft kiss to Poe’s cheek, shifts to kneel behind Poe’s head, and settles his hands onto his lover’s shoulders.

With a sigh, Poe lets the conversation go. Finn will need time to think about it—that’s ok. He’ll talk when he can. For now, Poe just closes his eyes and tips his head back. Finn rubs hard enough to ease some of the knots in Poe’s raw, burning muscles. “Thank you for this, too,” Poe murmurs.

“Pleasure.” Finn’s voice rumbles in his chest, close to Poe’s ear.

“Mmm?” Poe answers, and that’s about all he’s got right now. _“'M glad.”_ Finn leans Poe forward, scrubs down his back, eases him back down to the cool tub, and shifts back to Poe’s side. Lets his hands, soapy and cool, slide down to Poe’s stomach. And further.

“Huh,” Poe says. He looks down his body with half-lidded eyes.

“What?”

Poe jerks his chin down towards his body. “It still works.”

Finn quirks a brow. “Worried?” His hand slides around Poe’s rapidly hardening cock, slick with soapsuds.

“I mean,” Poe shrugs. “Nothing else works right now, so it’s a bit of a surprise, I’ve got to say.”

“Well.” Finn takes Poe’s cock in hand again, strokes up, curls his fingers over the head.

Poe bites his lip. “Buddy,” he says. “I’d love to, really. But I—can’t really reciprocate, right now. Although, I mean, my mouth still works, thank fuck, so—”

“No way,” Finn interrupts. “No fucking way, are you kidding? It would be way too creepy when you can’t actually move. Don’t even—no. Just—no.”

“Huh. Well. That’s fair. Good incentive to get better quickly, I guess.”

Finn snorts. He strokes up Poe’s cock again, flicks his fingers across the slit. “Can I,” he says. His eyes find Poe’s at last, full of something Poe can’t quite name. “Please.”

“After all you’ve done for me. You want to do even more?”

Finn’s thumb traces a repetitive circle beneath the ridge of Poe’s cock. He stares at the side of the tub, mouth set.

“Finn. What’s going on? Please.” Poe watches him for a moment, listening to his heart pounding in his temples, trying to ignore the pleasant slide of Finn’s finger against his cock, wondering how hard to push. “Buddy—”

Finn shakes his head. He resumes washing Poe, hands gentle on the curves of his thighs. Poe stretches forward, tries to reach up towards Finn, but his body won’t respond to his commands.

“You were going to die in my arms.” Finn pulls his mouth into strange shapes, anything to stop his lips from trembling. “In deep space.”

“Buddy.” Poe’s voice cracks. “I’m so sorry.” His best efforts to get closer to his lover only result in a brief convulsion and a slosh of the water in the tub. He sags back against the tub, furious at his own helplessness. “Come here, my love, I’m so sorry I worried you and I’m so sorry you’re sad and I can’t even fucking hug you and I’m so sorry, come here come here come here—”

With a small, soggy laugh, Finn leans down and folds Poe into his arms. Poe hangs on as tightly as he can. The unsteady shudder of Finn’s breath is Poe’s only signal that his lover is crying. He lowers his head to Finn’s shoulder, heart aching. He can’t even hug Finn properly, let alone brush the tears off his face, or take care of him in return. But he can talk, fuck it, so he’s going to fucking talk to comfort his lover as best he can. “We’re safe,” he murmurs. “You did it. You saved me. You did so well. We’re safe now. We’re going to be ok.”

Finn drags in a hoarse breath, throat aching. _It won’t kill me, when you die,_ he thinks _. I’ll survive. I’ll fight. I’ll crush them. I’ll free the troopers. And maybe I’ll die in the war, or maybe I’ll live to see the end. But—_ “Poe,” he croaks. _“Poe.”_

Poe’s arms tighten and loosen around Finn’s back with each tremor of his body. “Most of the trip back,” he whispers. “Is a blur. But—forever and ever. I remember that. We’re going to live together forever and ever, right? I heard you.”

“Yeah.” Finn wipes his eyes, shaky. “Yeah. Forever and ever.”

“Good.” Poe presses a soft kiss to Finn’s shoulder. “Because I have plans for you.”

Finn snorts, shakes his head. “Should I be worried?” His voice scrapes low in his throat.

 _Very,_ Poe should say. Snicker a bit, give Finn the Poe Dameron smirk. “No,” he whispers instead. “Never. Because you’re safe now, and so am I, and we’re going to be ok.”

“Yeah?” Finn clears his throat.

“Yes,” Poe says, absolutely certain. Finn pulls back and gives him a look. Poe ducks his head. “Ok, fine, whatever, maybe not, the point stays.” He meets Finn’s eyes again, sharp and intense. “We’re here. We’re safe.”

“Yeah,” Finn says, after a pause. He rests his hands on Poe’s shoulders and holds on tight. “We are.”

Poe stretches his neck forward, tips up his chin—Finn meets him halfway in a salt-stinging kiss. He presses closer to Poe, heedless of the water soaking through his shirt, and wraps his hands around the small of Poe’s back. Poe sighs into the kiss. A strong tremor knocks his arms loose from Finn’s back.

Poe breaks apart from the kiss at last and hangs his head between their bodies, fighting for air. Finn braces him upright, sweeps his hair back from his forehead. “I love you,” Poe gasps at last. “You—”

Poe looks up—and loses his breath all over again for a moment, entranced by the swooping lines of his lover’s face. Finn’s—just— _beautiful_ , bright glint of eyes and warm curve of lips and soft arc of hair and smooth slope of cheekbones. “Finn.” Poe’s voice cracks. “ _Finn."_

Finn kisses him again, loses his balance, falls forward against the side of the tub, leans in towards Poe, kisses his jaw, neck, collarbone, shoulder. Cups his lover’s head in the palm of one hand, lets the other slip down Poe’s back and cup the rounded slope of his ass. Poe noses into the hollow beneath Finn’s ear and kisses it. Nudges Finn to lift his head again, needing his mouth, his mouth— _ahhh._

Their mouths meet, slip off, meet again. Poe’s teeth sink into Finn’s bottom lip. Finn’s fingers tangle in Poe’s hair. He pulls Poe closer, closer, desperate, urgent, wanting—then abruptly breaks off the kiss, hand shaking on the base of Poe’s spine.

“I can breathe,” Poe pants, “I’m fine, I’m fine, why—” He stops short. There’s a tight pinch in the corners of Finn’s eyes, grieving, wounded, needing. “Hey. Hey, no. What happened?”

Finn shakes his head.

There’s a sharp line down the center of Poe’s brow. His mouth works for a moment, considering and discarding vast piles of useless words. “Forever and ever,” he rasps at last, feeling his own eyes start to burn. “Right?”

Finn cups Poe’s face in one gentle hand. The calluses of his thumb scrape over Poe’s stubble, rough and grounding. The haunted edge to Finn’s eyes doesn’t disappear, precisely, but it eases, a bit, at least, and—maybe that’s enough, for now. His face twists up in a wistful smile. “Now,” he murmurs.

Poe nods. Clears his throat. Nods again.  “Now,” he whispers back, throat tight.

Finn’s face slowly eases into a smile, sweet and sure and— _luscious_. His hand slides up over Poe’s ass, strokes down the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, and finds Poe’s cock. Poe’s eyes rise to Finn’s, hooded with desire.

“Can I,” Finn murmurs again.

Poe bites his lip. _“Please.”_

Finn smiles, soft and sweet. With one gentle hand on Poe’s shoulders and another on the small of his back, he lowers Poe back down to the sloping end of the tub. Poe relaxes back and closes his eyes. Finn opens the drain to let out the soapy water, rinses Poe off with a short spray, and waits while the tub fills again, newly warm. The sound of water trundling against the sides of the tub is oddly soothing. While the tub fills again, Finn runs one wet hand down Poe’s chest, tracing sigils over his skin.

Poe shivers beneath his touch. “When I can fucking move again.” His eyes meet Finn’s; his mouth quirks up into a dangerous smile. “I am going to make you feel so fucking good, buddy, you have no idea.”

“Well.” Finn smirks. He reaches for a nipple, and tugs on it until Poe gasps and arches up. “I look forward to it.”

“I have plans,” Poe croaks. As Finn leans in and takes the nipple into his mouth, Poe tips his head back against the tub. “Good—” Finn folds his fingers around Poe’s cock and strokes up. “Plans,” Poe finishes, breathless with arousal.

Finn’s mouth makes an obscene pop as he lifts off the nipple. “Do tell.” He settles down onto the other nipple and nips at it with his teeth.

“Really good plans,” Poe groans. The water ripples around his body, filling in the cracks and crevices around his joints. The warmth takes the edge off the burn in his muscles, but the jagged heart of the pain remains. He shifts in place, unable to get comfortable.

Finn stops, straightens up, and looks down at Poe. “Hey. You all right?”

“Join me in here?”

Finn grins, bright and glorious. “Yeah?”

Poe smiles back, because really, how the fuck is he supposed to resist a smile of that caliber? May all X-wings run on the power of that love. “Yeah,” he says, slightly dazed.  

“Hmm.” Finn cocks his head for a moment, as though thinking it over. Poe just waits, floating loose in the water. And then Finn strips off his sleep shirt, blinding Poe with the beauty of his naked chest, broad and strong and capable and scattered with scars. Snick-click of a belt, and his pants and boxers fall to his ankles, letting his cock spring free, already half hard.

Poe smirks up at him. “Feel like I should be applauding.”

“Nerfherder,” Finn mutters, biting back another grin. “Just for that—” He lifts Poe’s back, steps into the tub behind him, and scoots into place behind his lover. He stretches his legs out on either side of Poe, cradles Poe to his chest, and leans them both back against the tub. “Better?” he murmurs, nuzzling into the tangled hair at the base of Poe’s neck. The scent of Zaela trees is rich on Poe’s skin, sharp and spicy.

Poe relaxes back into Finn’s arms. “Much,” he sighs. “Mmm. So much.”

“Good.” Finn takes a moment to run his hands up over Poe’s chest, feeling the strong beat of his lover’s pulse beneath his skin. Pressed up to Poe like this, he can feel the faint tremors still running through Poe’s body. He wraps an arm around Poe’s ribs, securing his lover to his chest as though he can absorb the frissons into his own bones.

Poe leans his head back onto Finn’s shoulder, eyes closed, lashes fluttering against his cheek. Finn kisses Poe’s jaw. Poe sighs, boneless in Finn’s arms. Finn’s cock jerks at the sound—he shifts back, trying not to poke Poe with his erection.

“It’s ok,” Poe murmurs, low in his throat. “Nothing I haven’t felt before, yeah? You can—”

“No,” Finn interrupts. “No fucking way. I meant it. Way too creepy. I’m fine. We can have a wonderful rutfest some other day.”

“Well. Ok.” Poe’s breath huffs out in a quiet laugh. “Now that’s a deal.”

“Good.” Finn cups Poe’s face to his and kisses him. His free hand slips down, down, down, fingers trailing through the trail of hair leading down Poe’s stomach. He finds Poe’s cock again and wraps his hand around it. Silken skin, warmed and reddened by the bathwater.

With slow, daydreaming strokes, Finn twists his hand up Poe’s cock and down again, and again, and again. The warm water laps against Finn’s feet, propped against the sides of the tub. He cups Poe’s balls—his lover’s breath hitches with a soft groan.

Poe reaches back towards Finn and nearly makes it before another convulsion jerks his arm back to his side. Finn takes Poe’s hand without pausing in his motions and settles their joined fingers across Poe’s chest. Poe relaxes back against him with a sigh. He turns to kiss Finn again, languid and content. His hips roll up to meet Finn’s hand, fall back. His lover’s hand is callused and familiar around his cock, a tight circle of heat on water-slick skin.

Already over-aroused from the feeling of his lover’s hands in his hair and on his body, it’s not long before a luminescent coil of arousal builds in his cock. His hips start to quake. Finn’s fingers flick over the head of Poe’s cock, snag beneath the ridge, and wrap tighter around him, harder, faster, once more, again, again—Poe tips his head back and shouts, back arching beneath Finn’s grip, wordless in ecstasy.

Finn catches most of his cum, droplets of white across his palm. Poe’s lips part around an unsteady breath, trying to regain some oxygen. Finn brings his white-streaked hand to his lips and licks it. Poe’s eyes flutter open—and widen appreciatively at the sight. “Hnngh,” he says, eloquent as ever. He leans forward, just far enough for his tongue to flick out to his lover’s hand.

“Oh,” Finn says faintly. Poe’s lips part in invitation—Finn leans forward and kisses him, deep and filthy, tasting his lover’s cum in both of their mouths.

When they break apart at last, Finn’s face cracks into a sweet grin. He rinses his hand clean, wipes it off on the towel hanging behind the bath, relaxes back against the side of the tub, and combs his fingers through Poe’s hair. Poe melts into his touch like custard in the sun, loose-limbed and sated. Finn closes his eyes and sighs, trying to drink in the moment.

“You ok?” Poe murmurs. He sets his free hand on Finn’s thigh.

“What?” Finn jerks awake again. “Yeah. Are you?”

“I’m _wonderful_.” Poe’s voice rumbles low in his throat. “Thank you. For—” His flingers flick out in an almost-wave. “All of this. I feel—”

“Clean?” Finn nuzzles the back of Poe’s neck, biting back a laugh.

“Nerfherder.” Poe leans his head back on his lover’s shoulder. “Well. Yes, I do. Which is lovely. But also. I feel—just—” He stops.

“Safe,” Finn whispers.

Poe twists to see Finn’s face. “Yeah,” he says, very soft. He presses a kiss to Finn’s jaw. “You too?”

“Yeah,” Finn murmurs. “So much. You have no idea.”

Poe’s eyes are intent on his. “Tell me,” he murmurs.

Finn shakes his head. “I don’t even have the words.”

Poe nods, eyes overbright. “That’s ok.” He waits for a moment, lets Finn breathe. “You’ll tell me. When you can? Anytime.”

“I’ll try,” Finn whispers.

“Ok,” Poe murmurs. “I’m glad you feel safe now. My love—” He kisses Finn, soft and sweet.

Finn kisses him back, twining his fingers through Poe’s hair to hold him close. Poe’s mouth parts beneath his, lush and welcoming. If Finn could, he would stay here forever: safe, whole, connected, loved, free. His beloved is buoyant in his arms, skin warm against his, breath echoing against the fresher tiles.

But the water’s gone cold now, and Finn’s fingers are wrinkled as a Sith lord’s face, so: “We should get out,” Finn mumbles. “Before we dissolve entirely.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad,” Poe yawns.

Finn snorts. “I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty fond of solidity.”

“Dammit.”

Finn laughs. He stretches his stiff legs, scoots back, clambers out of the tub, and settles Poe back down in the tub behind him. “Ok. I’m not sure I have enough hands to both dry you and hold you up. But we can figure this out.” He looks down at Poe—naked, tousled, well-fucked—and tilts his head, ignoring the pulse of his stubborn erection. “If I just—”

“Wait.” Poe tips his head back, casts a glance up at Finn from beneath his lashes. “Touch yourself,” he says, hoarse with desire.

Finn blinks. He pulls the little stool out from the corner and sits down, still staring at Poe. “What,” he says.

“Just—” Poe’s eyes flick to the side. His cheeks flush. “If you want to. I don’t know. It’s not an order! I—”

“I know it’s not an order,” Finn sighs, patient. “You wouldn’t do that.”

Poe’s shoulders start to ease back down from his ears. “Ok,” he says. “Ok. Then. That’s good.”

Finn runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “And I do want to.”

Poe’s eyes fly back up to his, wide and wondering. “You—oh, fuck. Oh holy fuck.”

Finn clears his throat. “So. Tell me. What to do.”

Poe tilts his head, considering. “Oh. Uh. Ok.”

“I mean—that is what you meant?”

“I don’t really know what I meant,” Poe says, slightly dazed. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Well.” Finn shrugs and leans back, shifting his legs out for balance. “Neither have I. But—” He looks down at Poe. “But I want to try it now. If you do.”

Poe’s mouth is parted, cheeks flushed, lips still kiss-reddened. He swallows. “Then,” he rasps again. “Touch yourself. No. Wait. Let me—” He opens his mouth, lifts his chin. Finn slips his fingers into Poe’s mouth for Poe to suckle on. Nearly loses his mind right then and there at the insistent pull of Poe’s tongue on his fingers. At last Poe lets go. “Wrap your hand around your cock,” he says, very soft.

As Finn does so, a smile slowly dawns across Poe’s face. “Having fun?” Finn asks, with a crooked smirk.

“Are you?” The surge of lust in Finn’s gaze is all the answer Poe needs.

“Tell me,” Finn whispers. “What you want me to do.”

“Touch your nipples.” Poe’s hands twitch in the water, as though touching his lover himself. “And tell me. How it feels.”

Finn reaches up with one hand and tugs on a nipple until it hardens into a tight nub above the dusky areola. “It feels good. It feels—like that night. Under the stars. On the east trail, at the top of the rise. When you played with my nipples until I came.”

“That was a good night, huh. I seem to recall that you then—”

“I did. And I’ll do it to you again, if you’re very, very lucky.”

Poe’s eyes crinkle in delight. “Well. That’s good. Because you have a finely skilled tongue, my man.”

Finn bows in his chair.

“Nerfherder.” Poe shakes his head. For a moment, he just watches Finn, mesmerized by the way his lover’s hands stroke his nipples and cock in tandem. Finn’s breath comes faster and harder. His toes curl on the fresher tiles. “Cup your balls,” Poe murmurs at last. “With your other hand.”

Finn lets go of the nipple and reaches down to the warm, velvety skin between his legs. His breath hitches as he palms his balls, one by one, rolls them between his fingers. “And below,” Poe murmurs. “Stroke—yes.” Finn’s finger slides over the soft skin of his perineum.

“Just the head,” Poe croaks. Finn slides his thumb over the head of his cock and flicks across the slit, tensing with the effort to not just jack himself to completion there and then. He’s been aroused for so long now, the movements are already igniting a bright rocket at the base of his spine. Poe must hear the thought, or maybe they’re just on the same comm channel right now, because—

“Jack yourself,” Poe says. His own breath is coming faster now, unspeakably turned on by the sight of his lover stroking his own cock, hand tight and sure. “Tighter—harder—”

Finn’s hand speeds apace with Poe’s words, cock slick with precum, glinting beneath the silver lights of the fresher. His breath shudders, tightly wound, heating from the inside—Poe can see the deep flush in his cheeks. The line of Finn’s stomach, chest, throat, curving back in one sweat-gleaming arc, is breathtaking. “Don’t come yet,” Poe rasps. “Slower—slower—”

Finn speeds up despite Poe’s words, closes his eyes, tips his head back, and opens his mouth, shuddering—shuddering—Poe smiles, slow and sweet, glad as ever to see Finn refuse to follow an order. Finn comes with a guttural _oh kriff_ that Poe feels deep in his gut, as though it was really his hand on Finn’s cock, spattered with white ropes of cum. Or maybe Finn’s hand on his own cock, tight and insistent, jacking him into a tight coil of pleasure.

Either way, it’s the sweetest fucking sight in the world: his beloved, slumped over himself on a fresher stool, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his back, eyes closed in a post-coital daze. Poe’s eyes trace the lines of Finn’s body as though he could reach out and touch, entranced by the play of light and shadow along the rippled scar across his lover’s back. “Finn,” he whispers. “My love.”

Finn leans forward, rests his elbows on the side of the tub, and lowers his head to Poe’s shoulder. The sound of his breath echoes against the walls of the fresher. Poe tries to lift an arm to stroke Finn’s head, but makes it only halfway before another tremor drops his arm back to his side. He leans his head against Finn’s instead and closes his eyes. “You’re so beautiful when you come,” he murmurs. “I could watch you. All day. Every day. And never get tired of it.”

“Think my cock might fall off, eventually,” Finn mumbles. He cracks open one eye, lifts his head to look at Poe—and drops his head back to Poe’s shoulder, boneless and content. “So,” he yawns. “Maybe we should switch off, instead. Because you.”

“Yeah?”

“Are beautiful too,” Finn rasps. “So beautiful. My love.” He cleans his hand on the towel, reaches down into the water, and fumbles blindly for Poe’s hand. Holds on tight to his lover, rubs his thumb over the back of Poe’s palm, brings Poe’s fingers to his lips and kisses them. Poe shifts closer, closes his eyes, and breathes in the bitter-salt scent of Finn’s come that still clings to his fingertips. They stay like that for a long moment, dripping on the fresher tiles.

“Oh. Wait.” Finn picks his head up and squints at Poe. “Isn’t the water cold by now?”

Poe shrugs. “Maybe? Who knows. I can’t feel it all that well. And the view,” he smirks, “is more than hot enough to make up for it.”

Finn laughs. “Well. Thanks. Still, though.” He reaches to the end of the tub and opens the drain. “Let’s get you out of there.”

Poe snorts. _“'Let’s’,_ you say, as though I’m going to make any meaningful contribution to the effort.”

Finn turns back to him.

Poe squinches his eyes shut. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m being an asshole again, and I don’t even know why. Thank you. Really. For all that you’re—”

“Poe.”

Poe cracks one eye open.

“It sucks. Not being able to move.”

Poe’s eyes widen. “Fuck. I’m _really_ sorry, Finn. You handled it so much better than I am. I don’t even know how—”

“On the outside,” Finn says, and he’s not smiling any more. Poe’s fingers strain up towards him. Finn sets a hand on Poe’s shoulder, not quite ready for a hand. “Which is why. I’m glad. That you’re comfortable enough. To—” He waves his other hand in the air. “Be an asshole.”

Poe stares up at Finn. “If you ever want to make up for lost time,” he says at last. “Please do.”

Finn’s smile lights up the fresher like a luma flare. “Careful. I might take you up on that.”

“I look forward to it.” Poe smiles back at him, heart still aching. Finn kneels by the tub, slings an arm around Poe’s waist, and hauls him up over his shoulder with an easy grace. Poe clutches Finn’s back, startled by the sudden inversion. Finn sets Poe on the stool, grabs a fresh towel, and starts to dry him off, one hand bracing him upright. Moves behind his lover, lets Poe lean back against his leg as he towels off his hair.

“I’m glad.” Poe’s murmur is almost lost beneath the quiet whirl of the water down the drain. “That you’re comfortable enough now. To tell me.”

Finn’s hands still on the towel. It drapes over Poe’s eyes, dangles down the back of his neck. “Me too,” Finn says. “Me too.”

He tosses the towel towards the rack—close enough, ok, not enough hands to fix it now—wraps an arm around Poe’s back and beneath his knees, lifts him off the stool, and carries him back into the medbay room. Poe ducks his head into Finn’s chest again, uncharacteristically quiet. Finn settles him onto the bed, fits his arms into the linen robe, and ties it shut across his waist.

“You should take a break,” Poe says at last, voice soft. He looks far too small, surrounded by the crisp white sheets of the cot.

“Saying I smell, Dameron?”

“Nerfherder,” Poe snorts. “I love the way you smell. We already covered that. No, I meant—when’s the last time you had a real meal? Stepped outside of the medbay? I’ll be fine. Go. Take care of your own self, for once.”

Finn waves a hand at him. “I’m fine.”

“Buddy.”

“Do you want me to leave?" Finn asks. "Because I can, no problem, if you want time to yourself, that’s fine, I—”

“No no no! I’d love for you to stay. I just—you keep taking care of me, and there’s basically nothing I can do in return, and I—”

“I don’t do it because I want something from you, Poe.”

“I know that,” Poe bites. “I just—it’s unfair, is all.”

“Why’d you take care of me after Starkiller?”

Poe blinks. “Because—” He hesitates, eyes dark and hooded. “Because I was falling in love with you,” he says at last. “Because it felt like the right thing to do—in general, and also in return for you saving my life. And.” Finn watches the sharp bob of Poe’s throat as he swallows. “Because.” Poe’s shoulders twitch up, down. “I—needed to.”

Finn nods. “Because—” He sits on the edge of the bed, smoothes down the sheets, and stares at the crease of the pillow. “Sometimes it feels just as good to take care of someone, as to be taken care of.”

“Yeah,” Poe whispers, suddenly hoarse.  

Finn lifts his eyes to Poe’s again. He touches Poe’s temple, traces a line down the durasteel angle of his jaw. Poe leans into the touch and stretches his fingers towards Finn. Finn takes his hand. “You’ll take a break when you need to,” Poe says. It’s not quite a question.

Finn smiles, sweet and glorious. “Yes. I will. I promise.”

“Ok.” Poe relaxes back into the pillow. “Then.” A slanted grin plays around his lips. “Will you come lie with me for a while?”

“I would love to.” Finn lifts Poe’s fingers to his lips and kisses them. “Shove over, you moof-milker.” He lifts Poe again, shifts his lover to the side of the cot, and slips in beside him. He turns onto his stomach, one arm crooked beneath his head, the other draped across Poe’s chest.

A particularly strong tremor kicks Poe’s leg into Finn’s. Poe murmurs an apology. ”Shh,” Finn says, and kisses Poe’s shoulder. His arm starts going numb. He shifts to a more comfortable position. Poe’s eyes flutter shut. This close, Finn could count each eyelash if he wanted to, curling down over Poe’s cheeks. “Planning to fall asleep?” Finn yawns.

“Very.”

“Did you actually listen to the question?”

“Maybe?” Poe shifts closer and strokes Finn’s leg with an unsteady hand. “Love you,” he mumbles.

“I love you too,” Finn whispers. And if he never says anything else, ever again, that will be enough. Poe’s hand knocks against his, falls back—Finn catches it, wraps his fingers around his lover’s hand tightly enough to quiet the tremor, and settles their hands over Poe’s chest.

Finn’s not sure how long they stay like that, embraced and embracing, half-asleep on the tiny medbay cot. He dozes in and out, breathing in the familiar scent of his lover’s skin, listening to the comfortingly strong beat of his lover’s heart. There’s no battle to fight, no pilots to train, no intel to gather, no need to move. For once in his life, a moment of peace.

Here, in Finn’s arms, loose-limbed on the crisp sheets, Poe is wondrously alive, and so is Finn. _This,_ he thinks. _This is what I always wanted. Love. Safety. Freedom. What else is there, in life?_ He closes suddenly stinging eyes, relaxes deeper into the bed, and lets the living quiet soak deep into his bones.

 _Now,_ he thinks. _Right now. We are alive._

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr! Or reblog the [fic post](http://beautifullights1.tumblr.com/post/150313929037/animalasaysrauer-answered-your-question-does) for a signal boost if you'd like. 
> 
> Random authorial musings: 
> 
> This is the first time I’ve gone back to the pre-marriage, “lover” stage in this ‘verse in several months. Even after they get married, I don’t have Poe and Finn refer to each other as “husband” often, either out loud or in their thoughts, because the word sounds weird to me. I’d far rather have them call each other “lover,” because to me, that’s what they are: two people who love and are loved by each other. To my ears, that’s a far more beautiful and evocative word than “husband.” 
> 
> While writing this fic, however, I started to appreciate the word “husband” so much more. Here, they’re deeply in love and have been together for about a year and a half. Nothing material really changes in their relationship when they get married. And yet—there’s something so precious about the word “husband,” and the connection it entails. It says that they are each other’s, and each other’s alone.  
> This really should not seem like a new idea to m—I mean, the contract is the whole point of the word “husband” and the concept of marriage. But I guess what I mean is that while all through Fly Home to Me, I’ve been itching to say “lover” instead of “husband,” now I suddenly find myself longing for the permanence inherent in the idea of “husband.”
> 
> I would also like to note that if by some strange chance you get the impression from this fic that I do not like D/s or BDSM, I would humbly request that you read my [Save a Pilot, Ride an X-wing](http://archiveofourown.org/series/474961) series. D/s can be wonderful, but it is not for these boys in this particular ‘verse. Too much residual trauma on both sides. 
> 
> In completely unrelated news, I will stand on my hill and defend the use of the word “buddy” as Poe’s primary term of romantic endearment until the sun sets. Have you seen the way that man looks at that droid? Almost as sweet as the way he looks at Finn.
> 
> Comments and concrits always appreciated! <3


End file.
